


A Rock, a Waiter, a Hard Place

by karrenia_rune



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 2009 community: whats in a name, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 03:17:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aiden Ford doesn't know what to make of this location, what with the bright lights and neon signs, but it's a chance to pick up supplies so he goes with it, all the same it's never hurts to be too careful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rock, a Waiter, a Hard Place

Title: A Rock, a Waiter and a Hard Place  
Author: karrenia  
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis/Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy  
Characters: Lt. Aiden Ford and Ford Prefect  
Prompt: between a rock and a hard place, and then some  
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis belongs to Gekko Film Corp. Renaissance Pictures, and its respective producers and directors as do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is the original creation of Douglas Adams and belongs to his estate etc, it is not mine and is only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story. Written for the 2009 Multifandom What's in a Name Challenge.

"A Rock, a Waiter and a Hard Place" by Karen

A through sweep of the region of space that his scouts had informed him was clear of System Lords activity had brought Aiden Ford and his men here in search of either trading partners or barring that an inhabited planet where he could barter for raw materials and potable drinking water and a fresh supply of provisions that were becoming alarmingly scarce in recent weeks.

He allowed a grim smile to slip out and crease the corners of his eyes, try as he might to avoid thinking about, about the choices he had made and the things that he had down since severing all ties with the colony on Atlantis and his friends, teammates, there were times, that he could not help himself from doing so.

He was more than well aware that none of them approved or condoned what he had deliberately done to himself and the others by taking the Wraith enzyme and consequently striking out on his own; but then he really did not want either their approval or forgiveness. All that was in the past; whatever else he might have been, whatever he might have become, Lt. Aiden Ford was a realist at heart.

Aiden shook his head to clear it of the inevitable cobwebs and lowered his head to the display readout on the dashboard of his ship, frowning at the information displayed, according to the coordinates this was exactly where he was supposed to be; somehow it just did not feel right. He could not have explained why that he was, in any concrete terms.  
***  
The silver ship darted across the deep black void of deep space with a streaking tail of fire trailing behind in its wake, as if seeking to out reach the gravitational pull of any nearby planetary body, or stars that would seek to halt its flight.

Aboard the ship a man of indeterminate height and age leaned up against one of the consoles and regarding his ship mates with a measuring air, just a little uncertain if he should intervene in the rather heated argument that had been going on between Arthur Dent,

Zaphod Beeblebrox for the better part of several hours and showed no signs of letting up any time sign. With a sigh that seemed to begin at the soles of his feet, travel from there to his legs, then his torso, and feeling seemed to lodge at the back of his neck. Ford Prefect stepped away from the console and stepped into the clear space between them. "May I make a suggestion?" he softly said.  
Zaphod, all three of his heads swiveling on their necks pivoted around and regarded Ford Prefect with a put-upon air. "NO! Ford ignored them.

Arthur Dent startled like a proverbial dear in the headlights of an oncoming car, blinked and then seemed to focus on Ford. "I didn't even realize you were there, old chap. What did you have in mind?"

"Well," he continued. "It seems to me that we've all been under a great deal of stress and I believe that the best remedy for that would be to take in a little rest and relaxation!."

Zaphod his grim expression fading as he considered this remark finally began enthusiastically clapping and then strode forward and gave Ford a comradely smack on his shoulders that nearly toppled him to the metal floor of the bridge.

"Capital idea!: Might I suggest the sulfur springs of Dentara III, or perhaps the mud flats of Rukia XI, I hear the weather is lovely this time of year."

Judging from both his tone of voice and his relaxed and easy stance Zaphod had completely forgotten the arguments and heated tempers of the past several hours.

"Actually," Ford said," when he had recovered sufficient voice. "I was thinking more along the lines of the Restaurant at the End of the Universe."  
Zaphod narrowed his eyes. "You think big, fellow! But I like it. That's the last place anyone who was anyone or who might be looking for us, or rather the Heart of Gold, would think to search!" Zaphod laughed again, and clapped his hands. "Let's do it!"  
***  
When he came within visual range of the space station Aiden Ford was forced to take several steps back in shock. There was nothing wrong with the ships sensors or with his own eyes; it was simply the sheer implausibility of what he saw. The tame variety of space stations various military and civilian outposts he was familiar with but `this': it looked extremely out of place, garish might have been a good way to describe what he was seeing.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves he squared his shoulders and looked out the view screen once more. The outposts appeared to be some kind of eating establishment perched on top of an asteroid and in garish neon lights that would not have been out of place on the Las Vegas strip it shouted out to any an all approaching ships,: The Restaurant at the End of the Universe!"

His second in command turned slightly to regard Ford with a skeptical look and asked "Do we put in a request to dock here?"

Aiden thought it over and then nodded. "Whatever else happens, we need the supplies, and I suspect our money is as good here as anywhere else in the galaxy. Do it."  
**  
Upon requesting and receiving confirmation to dock Aiden and his crew disembarked and where escorted through one of many airlocks by uniformed security officers that judging from what he could make out appeared to belong to no one species or order but instead seemed to be more like walking advertisements, some in languages that he could not understand at all. Aiden sighed and shook his head, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell he had gotten himself into this time.  
**  
After an hour of stewing in growing impatience and sipping at a mixed drink that Aiden figured he would be better off not asking what was in it, a man of medium build with dark brown hair, brown eyes, a receding hairline and looked to be in his mid-forties approached his table.

"You Aiden Ford?" he asked in rather bored, laconic tones as if the very act of coming over and asking the question was well beyond him. As he studied the man somewhere Aiden realized that the man was wearing a bath robe and fuzzy slippers on his feet. "I might be." He said aloud. "Who the hell are you?"

"Me," the man in the bathrobe shrugged. "I'm nobody. Right now I'm just the messenger. They sent me over to make certain that you're the one we're supposed to meet here. Humph, as if he could not simply run his own errands. Where's Marvin the Robot when you need him?"

"Recharging, " Aiden replied with a grin having recovered his considerable poise and considerable sense of humor. In the back of his mind he thought, "Guy's harmless, might as well play along. When in Rome…" he allowed the thought to trail off. "I'm Aiden Ford." He replied in answer to the other's initial question.

"Good. Come with me." The older man said as he turned around to go back in the direction that he had come from.

Aiden got up and reached down to straighten the creases in his uniform. "Lead on, then."

The older man looked up and sighed, and then seemed to slough off his lethargy and despondent attitude as he regarded Aiden For with a suddenly steady and appraising eye.

"You're from Earth!" Arthur Dent exclaimed and swiveled around with the index finger of his right hand stabbing Aiden Ford in the chest.

“Yeah so," Aiden replied as he took a few steps back from the older man.

"So, when you leave here, can you take me with you?" asked Arthur Dent.

"Don't know about that, fellow. Why Don't we just play it by ear for now. Let me talk to the man I came to meet and then we'll see. Okay?"

Arthur Dent nodded, and allowed his shoulders to slump once more.

"Okay, okay. It was probably too much to hope over. Earth is gone, destroyed by the Vogons. Obliterated. "

"What the hell is he mumbling about," asked his second in command coming up to stand beside Aiden Ford.

"Hell if I know." He shrugged. "I don't know about you, Trang, but I just want to get in, get what we came for, and get out again."

"You and me both, boss."

Just then a man with dark hair wearing a much faded dark suit approached. "What took you so long, Arthur?"

"You said to make certain that this was the one you were looking for, now did you not?" the man addressed as Arthur replied sheepishly.

"I think he's human, but in this galaxy nothing can be said to be certain. Is that not what you've been trying to pound into my head ever since I've known you, Ford?" Well, isn't it!"

The man addressed as Ford shrugged and finger-combed through his wavy dark hair.

"Now, now, no need to go flying off the handle, old bean. Gesturing to Ford and Trang he said. "Please, have a seat, I'd offer you some of this fabulous Gargle Blaster, but I fear it might now agree with you and we can get down to business. Arthur, if you would be so kind as to join us."

"No. You contacted us regarding a shipment of provisions."

"Well," Ford Prefect blushed scarlet as a berry. "I really don't have the merchandise available for sale anymore. The entropy effect of our starship tends to play havoc with perishable goods and it's well….."he trailed off. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

Ford sat ramrod straight in his chair and pinned the other man with his best level gaze his hands clenched into fists in his lap. "I don't have it anymore!" he quietly said.

"No, not anymore," Ford Prefect replied wondering at why the implicit threat in other man's tone did not worry him as much as it should.

Ford sighed and turning to one of his crew who had accompanied him to the meeting. "Well, it looks like we'll be having field rations again for breakfast."


End file.
